


if you love me you don't love me in a way i understand (i just don't know what it's like to love a gentle man)

by i_write_shit_pls_read_it



Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Cooper Aram and Park all get brief mentions, F/M, FUCKING ITALICS, I'm getting off track, It is my personal goal in life to make Liz and Ressler have more fics than Liz and Tom, Smut, So much angst, So much smut, also I couldn't figure out how to gracefully write in Agnes for this fic so she just doesn't exist, and a little bit of fluff?, enjoy, just so much sex, like more sex than plot, like six percent fluff, mostly in the form of pillow talk, ressler feels up liz in a sleeping bag, see notes - Freeform, sort of like how she shouldn't in the show, there is also sex at his apartment, this is not a Tom friendly account, which is how it should be of course, which will make sense in context, ye olde hypothermia fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22090375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_write_shit_pls_read_it/pseuds/i_write_shit_pls_read_it
Summary: Plot? What is plot? We know only angst and smut here. Hey guys, I'm back, and I have now watched all the season 7 episodes. I have written this fic and will be writing others to fill the three month hole in my heart while I wait for it to come back. This fic is the kind I’ve always wanted to write, and since it’s winter I give you, ‘oh no we’re cold and wet and alone guess we have to strip off our clothes and cuddle together for survival but you’re nearly naked and I’m turned on now’. Should be a blast. And then there is angst and feelings and more sex and more angst and more sex. I have found a niche and I intend to stick with it.
Relationships: Elizabeth Keen/Donald Ressler
Comments: 8
Kudos: 114





	if you love me you don't love me in a way i understand (i just don't know what it's like to love a gentle man)

**Author's Note:**

> Guys. Guys. You have no idea how long I've wanted to write a fic like this for but I've also never tried so please be nice to me. I am open to criticism as long as it is constructive and also includes compliments because I am apparently six years old and rely on positive feedback to live.

For a man who rarely did what could be classified as field work, Sydney Evans was an annoyingly good driver. He’d managed to shake the other three police cars that had been tailing him, and Liz and Ressler had been chasing him for over half a mile now and still hadn’t managed to get him pinned down. It might have helped if they had Aram to guide them, but a snowstorm had knocked out an area cell tower and comms were down.

The blacklister who specialized in rigging trials drove like a madman, making constant detours down one way streets, taking turns at random, and seemingly heading in no direction.

“You’re going to lose him,” Liz warned.

“I am not going to lose him,” Ressler snapped, mimicking Syndey’s abrupt U-turn.

“I’m just saying it wouldn’t kill you to speed up a little.” Sydney drove down a flight of stairs, forcing Ressler to follow, and Liz gripped the panic bar as she bounced up and down in her seat. Ressler glanced over to check if she was okay and almost drove into a tree before swerving at the last minute. “Keep your eyes on the goddamn road!” Liz yelped.

“You know you’re doing an awful lot of backseat driving!”

“Maybe if you drove less like my grandmother I wouldn’t have to.”

“Maybe if the roads weren’t covered in so much ice I’d be driving HANG ON!”

The last part was a yell as they took a ninety-degree turn and saw that Sydney’s car was parked in the middle of the road, the front door open. Ressler slammed on the brakes but not fast enough, and they crashed into the vehicle. The force of it attempted to propel Liz through the window before her seatbelt strangled her back into it; she felt the material cut into her collarbone through her jacket. The airbags exploded outwards, hitting Liz in the face with the force of a club, knocking the breath from her lungs.

Fingers slightly shaking, Liz undid her seatbelt, not needing to look to know that Ressler was doing the same. She forced the car door open, drew her sidearm, and looked around for Sydney. Bastard.

“Keen he’s over here!”

Keeping the gun down, Liz moved to the other side of the car, and gave a start when she saw Ressler was still inside. “Are you all right?”

He nodded, fighting back a grimace. “My leg is stuck.” The crash had forced in the front of the car, and Ressler’s leg was now jammed beneath the dashboard.

Liz looked over to where Sydney – bastard – was running away. She looked desperately back at Ressler, who immediately heard her thoughts. “I’m right behind you, go.” She hesitated. “Go!”

Liz turned and tore after Sydney, her vision narrowing down on his figure. If this were DC she’d know exactly where they were, but Sydney operated out of Maryland and the car chase had destroyed any geographical sense she may have had. So when the ground suddenly shifted beneath her feet, Liz looked down and swore as she realized she’d been lead out to the middle of a frozen river.

The cold air pierced her lungs; her arms were quickly going numb and she prayed if it came down to it she could still pull a trigger. But she was closing in on Sydney, and he must have realized it because although he kept running, the scrawny man turned around and fired his own gun at the ground in front of Liz.

She barely had time to register – oh shit not the ground, the _ice_ – before there was a massive cracking sound, and the ice came apart beneath her feet. Liz fell through the surface, throwing her arms out to try and catch a hold of the ice as the bottom half of her body plunged into the river.

The water’s temperature was so low that at first it almost burned, and then the cold slammed into her body like a hammer. She gasped, her lungs constricting with the cold and she almost lost her precarious hold. The ice had cracked in jagged pieces, and the edges cut her fingers. She tried to kick her legs but they were so numb she could hardly use them. Liz could feel her hands slipping, and she tried to adjust her grip only to lose it all together, the current pulling her under.

The cold was like knives cutting into her skin, infiltrating her very bones. She instinctively tried to breathe and her body jerked when all she inhaled was water. Liz desperately reached a hand up one more time, trying to pull herself out and then someone else was grabbing onto her arm, hauling her back up to the surface.

Liz’s head broke the water with a gasp, her entire body convulsing with shivers as she coughed up water and Ressler hauled her back onto the ice, resting her head on his legs. He pressed a gloved hand to her forehead, before tearing off the wet fabric and repeating the motion. His fingers were damp as he brushed hair out of her face. “Liz? Liz are you all right, what happened?” She tried to speak but was shivering so hard her jaw had locked up. “Liz?”

Her clothes were soaking wet and sticking to her like a second skin, she couldn’t remember another time she’d ever been so cold. His fingers went beneath her chin, seeking out a pulse point, she could feel him trembling. Ressler moved his hand to her cheek, tilting her face to look at him. He must not have liked what he saw, because he grabbed her left arm and swung it around his neck, before placing his own arms beneath her knees and back.

Despite the fact that her very teeth were cold, Liz forced herself to open her mouth as he picked her up. “S-s-s-syd-s-syd-n-n-n-ney,” she tried to speak, but Ressler cut her off.

“Liz I appreciate the commitment but your lips are so blue they’re turning purple. Let’s worry about Sydney after we deal with your hypothermia.”

She didn’t feel hypothermic though. Actually, she didn’t feel much of anything. She couldn’t feel her fingers, or any of her lower body, she could hardly feel her face. The cold was still there, but it was receding as it was replaced with exhaustion. The movement of Ressler’s steps as he jogged back across the ice was rather soothing, a sort of one-two-one-two that lulled her into letting her eyes drift shut. Liz thought she heard his voice say something, but couldn’t muddle it out. Another short, angry word, and then he was placing her back down. Were they at the car already?

Ressler’s hand cracked across her face and her eyes shot open, her body jerking up into a sitting position. Liz’s shivering returned with a vengeance as she glared at him, her cheek stinging. Ressler did not look very apologetic, and instead gripped her shoulders. “You can’t fall asleep Keen, do you understand me? If you fall asleep out here you’ll die, so you need to stay awake. I’ll make you walk if I have to but it’ll take us longer. If I pick you back up will you stay awake?”

Liz forced herself to nod, and then he was picking her back up and moving again. Every time Liz thought she might drift off, she bit down on her tongue and focused on the pain. Ressler also made sure to jostle her fairly often, which helped.

They stopped walking and for a second Liz was afraid he might slap her again before realizing they had reached the car. He placed her in the backseat and shut the door behind her, before moving to the driver’s side. There was the sound of an engine trying to turn on once, twice, three times, and then Ressler cursed and got out of the car.

Determined to stay awake, Liz bit down on her tongue again, a bit afraid she might bite it off she was shivering so violently. She couldn’t say how long it took, but after some time had passed Ressler opened the door across from her, and pulled a lever to turn two of the three seats down before shutting the door behind him. He moved into the back and started talking to her. “So Keen, I have bad news and I have worse news, you’ll get the bad news first. The cold and the crash screwed up the engine and now the car won’t start, and since cell service still isn’t up it looks like we’re going to be stuck out here for a while. Worse news is that kit that’s supposed to be in the trunk of all cars for exact situations like this? Aram took it out to go camping last week and hasn’t brought it back, remind me to get him written up for that.”

If her vocal cords hadn’t been frozen solid Liz would have laughed, but as it was all she could do was sort of spasm and make a noise in her throat. Ressler was now next to her again, and placed an arm around her shoulders, guiding her into the back of the car where he had put the last row of seats down. It was mostly empty, except for some things in the corner. “But the good news is I’m not a complete idiot, and when Aram took the kit I stuck a sleeping bag and some blankets back here.”

Liz tried to make some sort of affirmative noise, but all that managed to pass her lips was a muffled, “mhn.”

Without acknowledging this noise, Ressler grabbed one of the objects in the corner, and before she knew it he’d pulled out a sleeping bag and was spreading it next to them. He turned to face her again, and she realized he looked uncomfortable. His eyes tracked upwards, and Liz got the distinct impression he was praying for something before he looked back at her. “Keen, we have to get these clothes off of you.” This made some sort of logical sense, but she could not for the life of her remember why. Shivering, her brow furrowed as she tried to piece it together. Ressler cleared his throat. “Your clothes are soaked from going in the river, and you sitting there in them is making it worse.”

Ah, yes, now she remembered. She was hypothermic, or nearly there anyway, and so needed to conserve body heat. One of those things involved getting out of her soaking wet clothes that were practically frozen onto her.

There was a sudden loud breeze that seemed to rock the car, and Liz shook so violently she was surprised her brain didn’t start leaking out her ears as a new wave of cold overtook her.

There was no conceivable way Liz would be able to undress herself, and if she were capable of blushing she would have as she realized this meant Ressler would have to take her clothes off for her.

Evidently her partner had also reached that conclusion, because he cleared his throat again, before pulling off his own jacket. He wasn’t in his typical suit and tie, because they had gone home for the day before Sydney decided to make a run for it and had popped back up on their radar. He put the jacket over in the corner as she realized his arms and shoulders were soaked from where he’d reached in to pull her up. Liz felt her chest tighten up a little as she realized how cold he must also be, and that he had carried her anyway.

Ressler reached out for her right hand, took her glove off, and then did the same with her left hand. He then undid the buttons on her coat one at a time, his own fingers shivering slightly. When he was finished Ressler pushed it backwards off her shoulders, and crawled around behind her to tug it the rest of the way off her arms. She tried to help but her muscles just weren’t responding. He took off her holster – she’d lost her gun when she fell in the river – and then reached around to unzip the jacket she had been wearing underneath, and removed that too.

His hands gripped the hem of her shirt, and she heard him take a breath before lifting. He pulled it up, past her stomach, and then past her bra, and then over her head. The bra was plain and light purple and god, why hadn’t she worn a nicer one? Not that her lack of lingerie options was important at the moment, but she desperately needed something besides the current situation to focus on.

Ressler moved back in front of her to finish pulling her shirt off, the wet fabric reluctantly allowing itself to be pried from her arms. He made a weak sort of gesture at the bra, and she dared to look at his face to see him staring determinedly at a point over her shoulder. “I’ll take that off in a minute.”

Liz nodded but it turned into a full body shiver, one that practically threw her backwards. Ressler caught her head before it could crash into the window and set her down gently. Liz put all her energy into making her body stop vibrating faster than Aram on his fourth cup of coffee, but all she seemed to do was shiver harder as Ressler stripped off her shoes and socks.

His fingers then came to rest on the button of her jeans and she saw him swallow before undoing it. The zipper was next, and it was entirely in her head but she thought her body temperature went up a few degrees at the sound. Ressler hooked his fingers into the waistband of her jeans, knuckles brushing the bare skin of her hips as her teeth chattered, and pulled them off her legs.

Goosebumps rose up in their wake, her toes curling up as he took her clothes and dumped them in the corner of the car. He turned back to look at her and Liz briefly hoped the hypothermia would kill her before Ressler had to undress her further, because she had been fully submerged in the river which meant all of her clothes would have to come off.

All of them.

His gaze met hers and his jaw seemed to twitch as he took her hand and gently pulled her up again. “I have to, um,” he gestured with his hands as his voice died. Liz managed the vaguest imitation of a nod, wishing again for death.

He moved behind her and undid the clasp of her bra, and although Liz had no sensation on her face she still got the distinct impression of her cheeks catching on fire as the fabric lost its grip on her chest and slid down her arms. Ressler reached around to grab it, and it went with the rest of her clothes. Her shivering intensified. She heard him swallow again, and then his hands went to the elastic of her very last item of clothing. _There is a god_ , Liz thought uncharitably as he managed to get them off of her without ever moving in front of her, _and he has a very twisted sense of humor._ How many times had she wished for Ressler to strip her clothes off one by one, only for it to be happening now only because she was in danger of freezing to death?

Ressler pulled the sleeping bag over to them and carefully, his hands touching her no more than absolutely necessary, helped her into it. He dragged two blankets over her but didn’t zip it up, and Liz was suddenly too exhausted to worry about it.

In the corner of her vision she could see him take off his own shirt which was wet from where he’d pulled her out. She expected him to stop there, but then he moved to start taking off his jeans and she realized they were wet from where her head had rested on them. He left his underwear on though, and Liz was split fifty-fifty on whether she should be grateful or not.

He cleared his throat. “I’m going to get in the sleeping bag with you. Because, you know. Body heat.”

Liz closed her eyes. _Let me die, let me die, let me die._

Her nervous system chose that moment to contract with another set of shivers, and without another moment’s hesitation Ressler climbed in behind her, and reached around her to zip them in.

Liz was immediately warmer and exhaled in surprise, tucking her arms into her midsection in an attempt to make herself as small as possible. But there were two of them in a sleeping bag meant for at best, one and a half persons, and neither of them were very comfortable. Eventually Ressler sighed, and hesitantly placed a hand on the middle of her back. “Do you mind if I, um.”

Knowing what he was asking, Liz was very careful to stay entirely still. “I-it’s f-f-fine.”

His right arm went beneath her, and his left arm went above, and both wrapped around to pull her body closer to him. Objectively speaking it was more comfortable, but emotionally speaking she was hoping the car would suddenly cave in.

His hands were resting on her stomach, directly above her belly button, and Liz was entirely aware that if they moved up or down by not very much, she would have to go dive back into the lake to spare herself the ensuing humiliation.

Liz wasn’t entirely sure how long they remained like that, the howling wind being the only indication of time, but eventually her shivers began to cease.

“You’re not asleep are you Keen?” His voice held a warning.

“No,” Liz muttered, feeling a tad reproachful. “And if you s-slap me again I’m g-going to shoot you.”

She heard him do that thing he sometimes did, where he gave a very small laugh, only it felt much more intimate this time for obvious reasons.

Ressler shifted his grip, and his thumb lightly brushed up against the underside of her breast. He froze so completely behind her that Liz felt him stop breathing. Not that she was doing any better, as all her cells seemed to have lost function. Slowly, as though hoping she wouldn’t notice, he moved the hand back down.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

Not knowing what she could possibly say in response, Liz pretended it hadn’t happened. Partly in an effort to ignore the winds that occasionally rocked the car, she focused on her slowly rising core temperature. Mostly though, it was because as the cold gradually receded from her body she was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that she was naked and a matter of inches away from Ressler, who was almost entirely naked himself.

When Liz had been a teenager she had been obsessed with fairies. Her favorite kind had been the cutesy ones who hid in gardens and had magic wands, but she’d been fascinated with the other kind. The ones who were tall and gorgeous and cruel, and gave human’s their heart’s desire but with a catch. Maybe all those nights where Liz had been lying alone in a bed meant for two, pining after her partner, one of those fairies had heard her wish and decided to teach her a lesson. Because if you had told Liz two days ago that this case would lead to her and Ressler lying together naked with his arms around her, she would have assumed it meant she’d died and been sent to heaven. But this? Where they were both afraid to move even a centimeter, where he so clearly didn’t want to be here with her and was only doing it so she didn’t get frostbite? It took a special kind of sadism to come up with a punishment like this.

At least her teeth weren’t chattering anymore.

“Keen?”

 _Oh god, please don’t let him be telepathic._ “Yeah?”

“How are you doing?”

“Fine.”

“Okay. Good.”

They lapsed once more into silence, and Liz despaired that they couldn’t be more awkward if they were trying. Was the thought of touching her really so repulsive to him? The thought made her eyes sting but she ignored it.

A harsh breeze whistled past the car, rocking it slightly. Liz shivered and instinctively drew back. Normally this wouldn’t have been a problem, but this situation was about as far from normal as was possible to get. And so when she moved her back abruptly met Ressler’s chest, his skin damp but warmer than hers. She felt him go still behind her, before carefully readjusting his arms. They were now so close together she could feel his shallow breaths against the shell of her ear. Liz viciously beat back the part of her that was enjoying this with a stick.

Suddenly Liz realized why Ressler had gone so still. She had been so focused on his hands and upper body that she hadn’t felt what was between his legs. She felt it now though, and couldn’t stop herself from inhaling sharply.

His grip on her briefly tightened. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice tortured. “I can’t, I can’t help it.”

Liz’s heart was beating so fast she wouldn’t have been surprised if it escaped from her chest. “Don’t worry about it,” she managed to say.

He seemed to be holding his breath because his chest wasn’t moving until he whispered, “How are you still so cold?”

Liz was fairly sure the question was rhetorical, but she answered anyway. “I fell in a river.”

“I know, but your skin.” His hand flattened on her stomach and her toes curled. “It’s like ice.”

“So warm me up then.”

Oh crap. Her eyes widened as she processed what she just said. She definitely should not have said it, but she was cold and tired and naked and desperate. And now Ressler was here, right behind her and at least a little turned on and the chances of her ever having another chance like this were less than nothing. But of course there was the small matter of him not having those feelings for her, and he was now probably wishing he had never opened his mouth –

Ressler shifted, pulling his left hand back and tracing it up her arm to rest gently on her shoulder. Liz forgot how to think. He leaned forward, touching the tip of his nose to right behind her ear. His breath fell warm against her neck and she closed her eyes.

“Are you sure?” His voice was deep and gravelly, the way she only ever heard it at three in the morning when they were on a stakeout and it sparked a heat in her stomach that traveled down to between her legs.

“Yes,” she whispered, hope and terror battling inside of her.

He pushed forward again, enough to place a soft kiss beneath her ear and her breath caught in her throat. He mouthed at the spot, and then brought his mouth up to close around the bottom of her ear before biting down gently and Liz moaned. She felt him smile.

Ressler let go, but kept his mouth on her skin, dragging his lips down to the side of her neck. At the same time, his right hand came up and began kneading her breast. Her breaths shortened, and then his thumb and forefinger swept up to pinch her nipple, just hard enough to hurt and she arched her back with a sigh, the evidence of his own arousal pressing against her leg.

Liz was now rapidly getting warmer, but when she reached back around to wrap her own hand around him beneath his boxers, he grabbed her wrist to stop her. She turned to look over her shoulder and he smiled that small smile he gave her more than anyone else. “What’s wrong?”

His thumb stroked her pulse point. “I’ve fantasized about this for years,” he breathed. “Just let me enjoy you for a little bit.”

Her eyes started stinging again at this admission, and she nodded.

Rather than return to her shoulder, Ressler’s hand left her wrist to go to her hip and slid around to her stomach, before going lower. She tensed up in anticipation as his fingers brushed over her in gentle, coaxing circles. Liz lost herself in a haze of pleasure over the next few minutes as one hand worked on her breast and the other stayed between her legs, until finally one of his fingers dipped inside her.

“ _Oooh,_ ” Liz cried, grasping his hand as she tried to blink the sudden stars from her vision. It shouldn’t have been possible for her to go from nearly hypothermic to this turned on so quickly, and yet here she was. After taking a few seconds to recover, she relaxed her grip so her hand was resting on his forearm and he started moving. Her toes curled up and she used her unoccupied hand to start playing with her other breast. He added another finger, and Liz moaned again, louder. God, she normally wasn’t this loud but right now it didn’t seem like she could help it.

The stimulation was starting to overwhelm her, and then Ressler leaned over to start kissing her again, on her jawbone this time. And then just as she was getting lulled into this new pace, his fingers crooked up. “Oh, god!” Liz shuddered, her entire body tightening up as she got higher than she had ever been, warmth and pleasure filling up her entire body unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

After a few minutes her body eased back into reality, and she started to notice a faint ringing. At first she thought the water might have damaged her hearing, but then she realized it was coming from the pile of wet clothes in the corner. Liz craned her head. “Whose phone is that?”

“What?” Ressler sounded confused, before realization apparently dawned. “Oh, shit, the cell service is back on I need to call Aram and Cooper.” He scrambled out of the sleeping bag and over to their discarded clothes and pulled the phone out. Liz sunk down into the bag, suddenly cold again without his arms around her.

***

Ressler had stayed on the phone with Aram as he pulled his clothes back on, explaining that Sydney had gotten away, Liz had taken an impromptu swim, and that the car was broken. Less than twenty minutes later Aram arrived – having driven over from the local police station – and brought Liz a change of clothes. He and Ressler had stayed on the phone up until then, something Liz had tried not to read too much into. Reddington and Cooper had both ordered Liz to go home and rest while the local police and FBI had coordinated a search of the surrounding area. Agent Park called that night to let her know they eventually cornered Sydney in some kind of cabin and he was currently in custody. After she’d hung up Liz had stared at the phone, a lump in her throat because she knew that if it had been any other day Ressler would have called her instead.

She had eventually fallen into a fitful, shivery sleep, filled with dreams of Ressler. Ressler’s bare chest pressed up against her back, Ressler’s mouth on her neck, Ressler’s hands on her breasts, Ressler, Ressler, _Ressler._ More than once she woke up gasping, clutching at the sheets around her as she searched for him. As a result of her bout of near hypothermia Liz developed a rather awful cold for the next two days, and called in sick to work. Then when she finally came back in, Ressler acted as if nothing had happened.

He was perfectly cordial to the uninformed observer, passing her the forms she needed to fill out for her new sidearm, making polite conversation, being more or less normal. But he also wouldn’t look directly at her, no matter how hard she tried to catch his eye. His answers were courteous but brisk, and he took great pains to ensure they were never alone together. A thousand unsaid things built up in the back of Liz’s throat all day until it was all she could do not to scream.

Rather than go home after work, she headed to a bar near the Post Office. Five hours, a bottle of forty-proof alcohol, and three shot of tequila later, an annoyingly familiar fedora dropped next to her.

She squinted up to see the man usually attached to said fedora sit down beside her, Dembe on his right. “Hello Elizabeth.”

Liz grunted noncommittally and downed another shot. She was pretty sure the shelves of glass bottles were mocking her, or at least making judgy faces.

“How eloquent. Might I enquire as to what problem has driven you to seek a solution at the bottom of a bottle?”

Liz tightened her grip on the glass. “No, you may not.”

“Fair enough.” He waved the bartender over. “A gin and tonic please, on the rocks.”

“Why are you here?” Liz demanded.

Red shrugged as his drink was poured. “I wanted to check in on you, make sure you were fully recovered from your little dip in South River.”

The mention of the incident sent anger rocketing through her. “I hate men.”

The sheer vitriol in her tone appeared to surprise Red. “And what exactly has my sex done to warrant this aggression?”

Liz sloppily waved the reasonable question away. “You. Always checking up on me, and taking care of me, and refusing to be honest about a single goddamn thing. Tom’s sociopathic ass that I married more than once because I am apparently a moron. Ressler, kissing me, touching me, making me believe he could actually feel something for me, and then acting like I don’t exist. Men suck.” A large group was now singing YMCA and she resisted the urge to throw a bottle at them.

Red took a long sip of his drink. “Ressler kissed you?” Dembe wore an expression of delight usually only seen when he solved a Rubix cube.

“Yes,” she answered dully.

“When did that happen? Recently, I presume?”

Liz’s breaths started becoming shallower. “After I fell in the lake. He carried me back to the car and my clothes were wet so I had to take them off, only I couldn’t use my hands so he took them off, something I have imagined so many times by the way, just not like that. His clothes were wet too and Aram also sucks and so we had to use the sleeping bag and we shared it because body heat and also because I was like dying or whatever, and it got him hard and I said go ahead and then he felt me up and then cell service came back on and he called Aram and has hardly said two words to me since.” She pressed her hands into her eyes. “I am such an idiot.”

The silence stretched on for so long that she thought Reddington might have left, but when she checked he was still there, nursing his drink, deep in thought. Dembe just looked exasperated.

“Lizzy, have you spoken to him about what happened?”

Her eyes narrowed. “What a truly fantastic idea,” she snapped. “If not for the fact that he won’t talk to me.”

Reddington shrugged. “So make him talk to you.”

Liz snorted. “Make him? What, tie him to a chair?”

His eyes twinkled at her. “If that’s what it takes.”

“Although just knocking on his door would probably work too, and also be less illegal,” Dembe added.

Somehow Liz decided this would be a fantastic idea, and rather than call her a taxi Reddington had Dembe drop her off. So now here she was, standing outside Ressler’s place after midnight and repeatedly banging on his door.

Ressler finally threw it open, his irritated expression shifting into confusion when he saw it was her. He opened his mouth but Liz cut him off. “Are you ashamed of what happened?”

He blinked. “Am I – what?”

She forced her way past him, stumbling slightly as she walked into his apartment. “Are you ashamed of what happened? When we were in the car and naked and you were touching me, you seemed like you were enjoying it. I know I was enjoying it, you even said you’d thought about it, that you’d fantasized about it, and now you won’t even look at me.”

Ressler was staring at her in disbelief. “Are you drunk?”

“That’s irrelevant and you haven’t answered the question.” Liz tried to cross her arms but ended up hugging herself instead. “Are you ashamed of it? Is the idea of wanting me really so awful to you?”

His face softened. “No, Keen, that’s not it.” Ressler stepped towards her but she stepped back, needing physical space between them to think clearly. Or as clearly as she could anyway.

“Then what is it?” Her voice sounded small to her own ears.

His hands opened and closed at his sides. “I wanted to take it back.” Liz felt her heart turn to stone before he hurried to add, “Not what happened, that part was, well, amazing. Just how it happened.”

“How it happened?” Liz repeated.

“It’s just that you were half frozen to death, and we were both–” his face flushed “–very undressed, and as soon as it was over I didn’t know if you’d been thinking clearly, and I didn’t want to put any expectations on you in case you regretted it.”

“In case I regretted it?” Were they talking about the same thing? “At what point did I seem regretful to you?”

“How am I supposed to know what the hell goes on in your head Keen?” Now he sounded angry. “Every time I think there might be something here you pull away, so forgive me for not wanting to face you after admitting that I’ve wanted you for years now when I had no reason to think you felt the same way.”

Her brain seemed to be short-circuiting. “What way?”

Ressler stared at her in disbelief. “Just how drunk are you?”

“What way?” Liz repeated.

He sighed, a defeated look on his face. “Are you really going to make me spell it out Keen?”

Liz licked her suddenly dry lips, needing to be near him. Now that she knew what it felt like to be touched by him, she didn’t know how she could keep going without it if by some way she was misinterpreting this.

She stepped towards him. “Show me.” He didn’t move, his entire body stilling. She took another step forward. “Show me,” she said again, and her voice broke slightly.

He hesitated and then took the last two steps. They were close enough they could’ve been dancing. His hands rose up to grasp her cheeks gently, so gently. She tilted her face up to him like a flower seeking the sun. Ressler leaned down the rest of the way and slanted their lips together. Liz gripped his arms, feeling all the tension and worry of the past couple days drain out of her body as he kissed her, soft and gentle and insistent. After what felt like seconds but was probably longer, he slowly drew away from her. Incapable of letting him go Liz followed after him, her lips chasing his. He let her catch him, mouth curved up in a small smile as he kissed her again, and again, and again.

Eventually, when her lips were starting to swell from all the kisses, they broke apart a second time. Ressler rested his forehead against hers. “Wow,” she muttered.

He laughed. “Wow is right.”

Her body aching for him all over, Liz stepped away and reached down to pull her shirt off. Ressler’s eyes widened. “Liz,” he breathed, the sound of her name making her stomach tighten. She thought he might say something else but he just stared.

She reached down to take his hand, and brought it up to her collarbone, his thumb resting just between her breasts. She saw him swallow. “I said show me,” she reminded him. “I didn’t say stop.” Finally understanding what she wanted, Ressler bent down to kiss her again, and then grabbed her hand and led her through his apartment.

They entered his bedroom and Liz felt her pulse speed up. The bed was messy and unmade, as if he’d just woken up. Although admittedly he probably had.

In a feat of dexterity she hadn’t known him to be capable of, Ressler managed to spin her around so that she was pressed up into him once more and she laughed at the sensation.

His hand returned to her face and he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of her lips, and then kissed across her cheek, to her jaw, to the spot beneath her ear that made her breath hitch. Liz opened up her jeans but before she could pull them off he stopped her.

“Can I do it?” he whispered, the sincerity of the question almost making her knees buckle. She nodded.

He walked her back until the backs of her legs reached the bed and then softly lowered her down. The comforter swallowed her upper body as Ressler stood back up and slowly tugged off her jeans. As soon as they were gone he rapidly discarded his own clothes and joined her on the bed.

He settled his knees around her hips and Liz lifted her hands up to his shoulders, dragging them down his stomach to the waistline of the boxers he’d left on. He made as if to remove her hand and she tightened her grip. “You had your turn already,” she reminded him, and adjusted her body so she was sitting on her knees. “Let me have mine.”

Ressler smiled as she took him by the shoulders and guided him onto his back, making sure his head was on the pillows. She moved back down and pulled off the dark gray boxers, dropping them off the side of the bed, and then sat herself between his legs. He was already pretty turned on, and so Liz decided to try to find a way to stretch it out.

She started with one hand, tracing feather-light patterns, occasionally using her other hand to circle the tip. Liz could feel his muscles growing tenser and tenser as she worked until she suddenly stopped. He looked down at her with hooded eyes, but she ignored him in favor of leaning down to take him in her mouth.

Ressler swore, loud and abrupt, and then he was grabbing her by the shoulders and dragging her up to him.

Liz felt her face flush, certain she had done something wrong. “Sorry,” she began, but he was already shaking his head.

“No don’t be sorry, it’s just that I’m not going to last very long if you do that,” he admitted, his cheeks reddening.

Before she could respond to this admission, he started kissing her again, and he rolled them over so he was on top, before hastily grabbing for protection from the bedside drawer. Before putting it on, he reached down to use his fingers on her again, getting her ready for him, causing her to cry out. When they were both prepared he positioned himself and sunk deep inside of her. Liz moaned involuntarily and arched her back into him, wrapping a leg around his hips to pull him in even further.

One hand was next to her head, trembling slightly as he thrusted into her over and over, the other moved around to grip her thigh.

They went a few more times after that, but finally they both collapsed on the bed, spent. Ressler rolled off of her, breathing hard. Liz could feel herself starting to succumb to her exhaustion and the alcohol from earlier, and threw an arm over his chest, fitting her body into his side. His arm immediately came to wrap around her back and Liz let herself smile.

“I was so worried I’d screwed this up,” he admitted. She felt his chest move as he spoke. “After the car, you were sick for two days, and I managed to convince myself you were avoiding me and that I’d ruined any chance of this.”

Liz pulled herself in closer to him. “You think too much.” That statement was entirely hypocritical of her, considering how much overthinking she had managed to do lately, but she decided not to mention that part.

“So you’re saying I should be more direct?”

She pressed a kiss to his side. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Ressler propped himself up on one arm, and looked down at her. Liz fought the urge to kiss him again. “Go out with me.”

She blinked. “What?”

His expression was determined. “Go out with me. I know how I feel about you, and I also know it’s not going to change anytime soon. So let’s do this thing. Go out with me.”’

Liz stared up at him, as he said all the words she had wished for him to say, and felt doubt in her abdomen. Every time last night he’d kissed her or touched her, even the way he was looking at her right now was heartbreakingly gentle. Liz had never been loved by anyone gentle before, what if she didn’t know how?

But then she focused in on his face, open and guileless and honest as he waited for her answer, and Liz knew there had never been a chance she’d give him a different one. “Let’s do it.”

His face lit up. “Yeah?”

She laughed. “Yeah.”

Her exhaustion was forgotten as he leaned in and kissed her again and again, and then they were rolling over and laughing, getting tangled in the sheets.

Ressler ended up on top and reached a hand down between her legs. Liz was already sensitive from their earlier rounds, and so she wasn’t expecting him to take a lot of time. But then he pulled away and was moving back, placing chaste kisses on her breasts before moving further down. He stopped when his head was between her legs and Liz realized what was going to happen a second before it did. Ressler began using his mouth and Liz made a sound that was half-moan half-yell, bracing herself on the headboard.

Her thoughts dissolved into a pleasurable haze as he worked on her with his lips and his tongue, his hands on her hips preventing her from writhing and so all Liz could do was cry out in ecstasy.

She could feel herself getting closer and closer, but this wasn’t how she wanted to finish. Fumbling a bit, she reached down to grab him by the shoulders and move him off of her. Ressler looked up at her, his lips wet, and Liz was temporarily struck dumb by the sight. Helpless, she tried to drag him back up but he resisted, his expression slightly smug. “I’m not finished yet,” he protested.

Liz shook her head, frustrated. “Damn it Ressler just get inside me,” she begged, and his eyes darkened.

Without another word he surged back up to capture her mouth in a heated kiss. His tongue nudged at the seam of her lips and she opened up to him. He swept inside her mouth, exploring her, learning her, and then he bit down softly on her bottom lip and Liz moaned.

She reached down to use her own hands to get him prepped and found to her surprise that he already was. The thought that working on her was all the foreplay he needed did a number of wonderful things for her ego, and so she instead reached for the (almost empty) box of condoms, and accidentally knocked them to the ground.

Liz swore against his mouth and he chuckled, before allowing her to push him off of her as she leaned over the side of the bed to grab one. She then swung a leg over him to bracket him, and after he was ready she took him inside her.

Liz couldn’t help a gasp at the sensation, the new angle letting him somehow get even deeper than he had before. She worked her hips against Ressler as he grabbed one of her breasts and began to play with it as he placed kisses on her collarbone. Her breaths started becoming shorter and shorter until she was practically gasping and then without warning his other hand came around to grip her hair and he pulled, forcing her head back as he placed a firm kiss right on the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

At the singular lance of pain mixed into the experience, Liz came apart so strongly that she cried out and fell forward, knocking Ressler onto his back.

Still short of breath but determined to get him to finish as well, Liz planted her hands on his shoulders and sat back up, moving up and down as he gripped her hips. Their eyes locked and Liz moved one of her hands between them and grabbed him.

Ressler bucked up into her and finally met his own end, his grip on her tightening as his body convulsed. Liz let him ride it out, and then leaned down so that her head was resting on his chest, unwilling to part from him. She could hear his heart hammering away beneath his skin and smiled. 

“If I’d known the sex would be this good I would’ve made a move a lot sooner,” Ressler muttered, and she laughed.

“I’ll say. That trick you did with your fingers? I’m going to need that to become a regular thing.”

“Your wish is my command.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

Now Liz was truly exhausted, but as she drifted off to sleep she knew that the next time she awoke, grasping at the space around her, Ressler would be there to hold her hand. The thought had her smiling as her mind faded away.

**Author's Note:**

> I am thinking of including a slight sequel to this? Even less plot than this, just with Liz and Ressler experimenting a little because Liz's life and trauma has fucked her up and she likes sex so much better if it hurts a bit. idk. please give me comments


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